Scatter Their Ashes to the Wind
by vanishing stars
Summary: He plunges his hand into the glass Reaping Bowl, before pulling out a crumpled slip for the name of the female tribute. The pieces are in place, and it's time for the Games to begin.
1. Introducing the Hunger Games

**Scatter Their Ashes to the Wind**

A/N: So, I've seen a lot of these around and I really wanted to try writing one myself. Because this is my first time writing one of these (I hope I can get everybody's characters nicely!) I'm only going to open up 12 spots. That way, there's a chance every character survives the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, and we get to know all the characters better too!

Here's how I'm going to do this.

Because it's not fair if you know what everybody else's character is like, I'm going to make you fill out only your character's **name**, **age**, **gender **and **district **and send it to me in a **REVIEW.**

It will work on a first-come-first-served basis, which therefore means that if you want district 6's male, and someone else has already taken it, you will not get the spot.

I will be accepting 6 boys and 6 girls. Make sure to state your district and gender in the review. **DO NOT FILL OUT THE ENTIRE TEMPLATE IN THE REVIEW!**

Once you give me the above information in a **review**, you must then fill out the below template and send it to me in a **PM!**. Any incorrectly filled out characters, or characters that are too late, will not even be considered. Here is the template. Remember to send it to me in a **PM!**

**_DO NOT FILL OUT THIS TEMPLATE IN THE REVIEW! SEND IT TO ME IN A PM!_**

Name:

District:

Age:

Gender:

Appearance:

Personality:

Family (I want the basics, so I can write their reactions accurately):

Friends (give me their basics, so I can write their reactions):

Personal history (if possible, told in the voice of your character):

Chosen or volunteer:

If a volunteer, why did they volunteer (Please make this original!)?:

Token:

Interview strategy:

Strengths (include mental and physical):

Weaknesses (include mental and physical):

Weapon(s) of choice:

Training room strategy:

Strategy for Games:

Are they open to alliances?:

Are they open to romances?:

How do you see your tribute dying?:

**Districts**

District 1: Luxury items

District 2: Quarries and Military

District 3: Factories and Machinery

District 4: Fishing

District 5: Mathematics/DNA splicing (Muttations)

District 6: Medical and Scientific Development

District 7: Lumber

District 8: Textiles and Clothing Production

District 9: Food processing/Hunting

District 10: Livestock

District 11: Agriculture

District 12: Coal Mining

**~*~ SPONSORING ~*~**

Yes, there will be sponsoring. Here's how it's going to work:

2 points: Submitting a serious review

2 points: Favoriting and putting this story on story alert once it gets _**started.**_ That means once the Reapings are written.

3-6 points: Submitting an arena idea, a stylist or a prep team through **PM**. Depending on the originality of the submitted, I will award points accordingly.

5 points: You get 5 points automatically if I accept your tribute, not for submitting one.

I think I'll add more options when I think up more ideas.

Now, here's how you can spend your points (don't spend them all in one place! And make sure you spend them only when the tribute that has your support really needs it!):

**2 points: **1 bottle of water

**4 points: **2 bottles of water

**7 points: **A large meal. This includes three loaves of warm bread, butter, a large canister of warm soup and three fresh apples.

**18 points: **This can get your tribute basic medicine. Stuff like cough syrup, allergy medicine and burn cream.

**21 points: **A full 3-course meal

**25 points: **Higher tech things, like sleep serum and a lighter.

**30+ points: **Weapons (Note: Depending on the type of weapon, it can be thirty or more points. If it's, say, a trident for our District 4 tribute, then it will cost 40 points. If it's say, a simple knife, then it will cost 30 points.)

I'll be keeping track of who has how many points, so don't try to trick me.

Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.


	2. The Unlucky Few

**The Names in the Reaping Bowl**

**District 1**

Girl:

Boy: Fyrian Manas

**District 2**

Girl: Diana Rockefeller

Boy: Jaylon Asa

**District 3**

Girl:

Boy:

**District 4**

Girl: Skylar Ridged

Boy: Kieran Wolsh

**District 5**

Girl: Frankie Heathome

Boy:

**District 6**

Girl: Evangeline Flynn**

Boy:

**District 7**

Girl: Acacia "Ace" March

Boy:

**District 8**

Girl:

Boy:

**District 9**

Girl:

Boy: Sebastian Kingston

**District 10**

Girl: Erin Owafk

Boy:

**District 11**

Girl: Alloura Etchevery

Boy: Kyrdain North

**District 12**

Girl:

Boy: Daryl Rivers

**Evangeline is my character. She won't win, I promise you that. She's definitely going to die, but she's going to ah...stir some trouble in this group.

So.

**WE ARE CLOSED! The Reapings are being written as this is being read.**

**So, expect them to be posted this weekend.**

**Remember to review, because submitting a review with substance (such as character critiques, writing critiques etc.) will get you 2 points.**

May the odds be ever in your favor...

- Starry


	3. The Day It All Begins Part 1

**A/N: **Welcome to Reaping Day. This is only the first chapter, so we're going to be viewing the first six Reapings. We will be watching the Reapings through the eyes of someone in the Capitol. She's not your typical Capitol girl, mainly because I don't know _how _to write a good Capitol child. And she's watching the Reapings as they play out live in front of her, which means, _you_, dear reader, will only get to see the face these tributes put on as they are sentenced to death in the Capitol. Later on, we'll get into their heads. Don't worry.

Enjoy~

* * *

**1. The Day It All Begins Part 1**

I sit down next to my sisters, before grabbing the bowl of popcorn.

"About time you got here, Vasta," my younger sister grumbles at me.

"Hurry up! Turn on the television!" Vesta, my oldest sister, says to Vysta, my younger sister.

Vysta quickly reaches over and pressed the power button. The Capitol seal appears for a few seconds, before we see the newscasters, Qwerty Dax and Orpheus Frick. "Welcome to the One Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Hunger Games!" Qwerty begins with her typical cheeriness. Her hair has been dyed neon blue for the occasion, and there is a spinning tattoo on her left temple.

"The Reapings will begin momentarily," Orpheus looks at Qwerty, a light smile on his handsome features. "But before we do that, let's take a look at last year's Hunger Games and a look at the fifth Quarter Quell."

The fifth Quarter Quell. I remember it well. The twist was magnificent, simply because there were miniature Games held in each District, with where two boys and two girls were chosen for the miniature Games and the winning pair was sent to the real Games.

The winner was an eighteen year old boy from District 1, named Atlas. He was actually quite good-looking.

Last year's Games were not quite as exciting as the Quarter Quell, simply because it wasn't the Quarter Quell. However, the winner was a seventeen year old boy, from District Nine, named Nile.

Two words show up on the screen all of a sudden, proclaiming in big, bold letters, **District One**. And underneath that, **Luxury Items**. Qwerty and Orpheus are beginning an excited commentary as the words slowly fade away and the screen takes us to District 1. We see a crowd gathered in front of a square, and all of the teenagers crowded in the pens are definitely the best fed in all of Panem.

All of us lean forward on the couch and we keep our eyes on the screen, as the camera sweeps over every pen, settling on a dangerous face, or a beautiful body. Both of my sisters stop chewing the popcorn, as the mayor of District 1 ascends the stage. He's flanked by Atlas and the previous District 1 winner, some woman named Moonstone. Her eyes are cold, as she listens to the mayor repeat the treaty.

The representative steps up to the podium, and something about him reminds me of a big watermelon. He's dressed in a dark green pinstripe suit, and his hair is turquoise. Vysta giggles lightly, as she nudges me in the side. "I want to get my hair dyed that color," she whispers.

I shrug her off, wanting to watch the Reaping.

He plunges his hand into the glass Reaping Bowl, before pulling out a crumpled slip for the female tribute.

"Silvera Topaz," he announces. A slender girl pushes her way out of the seventeen's, looking very satisfied. Her hair is pale blond, and she moves with a silent, deadly grace. I hold my breath, as the representative asks for volunteers.

Two girls step forward at the same time, one from the eighteen's pen, and the other from the sixteen's pen. They're as different as can be. One is tall and dark, the other small and pale. But there is something in the dark eyes of the smaller one that makes me watch her.

She reaches the stage first, pushing the eighteen year old to the ground, bounding up the steps with lithe grace.

She looks at Silvera with disgust in her eyes, shoving Silvera off the stage as well.

The representative smiles at her and asks for her name.

"Indigo Juneleaf," she says with a large grin, meant for the camera.

The representative nods and motions for her to stand aside. He then plunges his hand into the names for the male tribute. "Flames Rhyme!"

But before Flames, a large red headed boy from the eighteen's section, can even make it out of his pen, a small boy from the twelve year old pen has stepped forward and onto the stage.

"I'm his volunteer," the twelve year old says, his dark brown eyes daring anybody to say anything else. Flames looks disappointed, but the boy has declared himself to be a volunteer and is the only one standing on the stage, so he has to let the boy be.

"I like him," Vysta whispers to me again, and I sigh, trying to ignore her.

"What's your name?" the representative does look amused, and Indigo does not look very happy to have a twelve year old for a District partner. I can tell she's already planning on ditching him once they reach the Arena.

But the boy's voice rings out and there's no sense of second-guessing in his tone and his posture, as he speaks. "Fyrian Manas," he announces.

The screen darkens, and returns to Qwerty and Orpheus.

"A twelve year old volunteer from District 1!" Qwerty says excitedly, as she looks straight into the camera, her lips drawn out in a full blown smile.

"These Games are certainly turning out to be quite exciting, and we've only gone through one Reaping! What will the others bring us?" Orpheus shuffles some papers, as he turns back to the big screen behind them. "Speaking of which, let us take a look at District 2's Reapings."

The screen darkens, and the words **District Two**, followed by **Quarries and Military** flash across the screen.

The square of District 2 looks just as packed as the one in District 1, but the boys here are bigger, more menacing, and the girls aren't really pretty, but more deadly looking. There seems to be a crazed look in each and every one of their eyes, as though they cannot wait to get at the throats of those around them.

"Maya Becket!"

A tall, lethal looking brunette steps free of the seventeen's pen, her dark brown eyes daring anybody to volunteer for her as she scales the stage.

She crosses her arms, and even though she's wearing a flimsy white dress, I can feel her blood thirst through the screen.

"Are there any volunteers?"

And all Hell breaks loose.

But the first one to reach the stage, and throw even the chosen Maya off, is a tall, red headed girl, a big smile of triumph on her face. Her eyes sweep through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone's approval, before she stops herself, staring at the representative as she waits for all the others to calm down.

"What's your name?" she asks her lightly, as though there hasn't been a fist fight three yards away from where she was standing.

"Diana Rockefeller," the red head says confidently, her bright green eyes staring straight into the camera.

"I like her hair," Vysta whispers to me, and I shush her.

"Congratulations, Diana," the representative smiles and turns to the Reaping Bowls again.

Her hand disappears into the multitude of names, and pulled out just one. She clears her throat. "Phillip Rochester!"

A kind of skinny looking tawny haired bespectacled boy climbs onto the stage.

"He doesn't stand a chance," Vysta mutters and Vesta slaps her upside the head.

"Be quiet!" Vesta hisses and Vysta glares back at her, before sulking against the armrest.

The volunteers have already been called for, and after a few moments, my prediction is fulfilled. The boy that stands in Phillip's place is a dark haired boy. His eyes are dark and cold, and it feels as though I can drown in them. He sneers down at the others, as though they are all below him.

"Congratulations!" the representative does not seem disturbed by his expression, as Diana eyes the boy warily.

"My name is Jaylon Asa," he says without being asked, his voice cool, betraying none of his thoughts.

Then District 2 is gone, replaced by Qwerty and Orpheus, again. I get up to use the bathroom, and when I come back, the District 3 Reapings have already finished.

"What are their names?" I ask Vesta as I take my seat again.

"A seventeen year old girl named Alise Blackthorn and a sixteen year old named Cameron Dune. They were both weak-looking," Vesta says with a hint of disgust.

**District Four** flashes across the screen, as the word **Fishing **follows it.

"Ooh, I remember last year's District Four tributes. They were good looking," Vysta smiles broadly and I sigh. Of course I remember those tributes. Vysta _insisted _we sponsor them. But who won instead? Some chick from District 6…The money that I had earned just went down the drain.

Oh well.

"Let us announce our female tribute!"

"Finally," Vesta puts another piece of popcorn in her mouth, her eyes focused on the screen.

"Ursula Glory!"

Ursula looks frightened, and I'm a little surprised. Then I realize she is much too small to be a Career _and _she did walk out of the thirteen's pen.

Luckily, she has a savior.

The girl that stepped out of the 16's pen looked very, very confident as she steps forward. Her dark green eyes dart around quickly, as she steps onto the stage, before her face falls, the lines of worry and stress smoothing out as though she realizes that she has accomplished successfully what she has been meant to do.

"What's your name?" the representative, I think her name is Astria, asks with a big smile.

"Skylar Ridged," she answers coolly.

"She looks familiar," Vysta murmurs and I think along those lines as well. Something about the dark black hair, and the way she carries herself.

"That's it!" Vesta slams her hand down on her palm. "She won the 76th Games. The Games where the Arena was a series of underground tunnels, remember?" Vesta runs a hand through her dark pink hair, her pale silver eyes glowing with excitement as she remembers this. We've been talking, and our attention is drawn back to the screen when a clear voice rings out.

"I volunteer!" The boy that speaks walks up to the stage. He looks down at the crowd, an arrogant smirk on his face. He crosses his arms over his chest, as though he's daring anybody to try and take away this opportunity.

"He's cute," Vysta whispers ecstatically.

I roll my eyes.

"What's your name?" the representative is remarkably cheery, almost as cheery as Vysta on the days she gets her hair dyed. I'm actually quite jealous of her bright orange dress and pale gold eyes. She has swirling tattoos on her cheek and her arm, and they just draw my eyes to them.

"Keiran Wolsh," he answers with confidence, as my gaze is forced back onto the boy. His bright blue eyes seem to stare right back at me, and I find myself grinning. He reaches a hand up, brushing back some of the dirty blond strands that have fallen into his face because of the wind in District 4, as the screen fades to black.

**District Five **appears, along with the words, **Mathematics/DNA Splicing**.

"Ugh. Brains," Vysta mutters, as she recoils into the couch.

The female tribute passes by swiftly, as one girl from the sixteen's pen is chosen. But as she steps up onto the stage – nobody expects any volunteers after all – there comes a surprise.

A small girl, with dark brown hair that obscures half her face, calls out at the last moment. "I volunteer!"

A sharp cry from the male fifteen's pen rings out, and the cameras immediately find the source. Tears are forming at the corner of the boy's eyes as the girl separates herself from the thirteen's pen and makes her way to the stage.

"Frankie…Why?" the boy wails.

Frankie doesn't seem to react, as she smiles softly at the representative.

"What's your name?" the man asks softly. He's wearing a lime green pinstriped suit, and I can see Vysta drooling over it. It _does _look pretty awesome.

"Frankie Heathome," she says softly, seeming to deflate now that she's actually on the stage. Her one visible eye is swiftly curtained by her hair, as she ducks her head.

The male tribute is chosen quickly as well, with no volunteers for the fourteen year old boy, named Lyle Wright, steps onto the stage, his lips moving too fast for anybody to read, as he shakily takes Frankie's hand, the thirteen year old peering out for that one brief second.

**District Six **appears after a few moments, followed by the words, **Medical and Scientific Development**.

The camera takes in the entire square, and I immediately notice one oddity. While almost everybody else is wearing their best clothes, there are several in the crowd that look as though they have not slept in three days.

At least three in the girl's sixteen's pen are still wearing the sterilized white lab coats that seem to symbolize District Six.

"Welcome to Reaping Day!" their representative, a man dressed in a long purple trench coat and frills, with shoulder length wavy blond hair and the most beautiful deep violet eyes, smiles as he speaks into the microphone. His name, I believe, is Geai.

The Reapings are almost immediately underway, as his slender fingers plunge into the ocean of names.

He tugs one out, opening it with a flourish before saying the name. "Evangeline Flynn!"

At first, silence.

Then, a light bell-like laugh, before a girl makes her way out of the sixteen's pen. Her white lab coat brushes the back of her knees. Underneath, she wears a simple black sweater and a dark skirt. Her long white-blond hair is tied up in a ponytail, the ends just barely reaching her elbows. She smirks, and her lip curls as though there's something decidedly amusing about her being sent off to her death.

Nobody volunteers, and this seems to amuse her again.

There's something strange about her, as though she knows how the Games are going to end.

The male Reaping ends swiftly, with the name, "Dylan Anderson," being called. He makes his way out of the seventeen's pen on skinny legs. He has pimples over his face, and glasses that are slipping down his small nose.

His eyes, black and beady, stare right at Evangeline, as she smiles strangely, again, and shakes his hand.

The screen darkens, and returns to Orpheus and Qwerty.

"Well! What an amazing start!" Qwerty begins, her eyes widening as she turns to look at Orpheus.

"Imagine. So many volunteers! This year's Games are definitely turning out to be good." Orpheus smiles in agreement. "We've gone through six Reapings. We have six more. Make sure to tune in at one o'clock in order to watch!"

* * *

**A/N: **So. Reviews are love. Have I done the first few character justice? Keep in mind that this is only the first chapter and that I've barely scratched the surface with any of these.

Remember, reviewing with advice for the writing will be worth **two **points.

**The current tally of points (If there's anything wrong, or you have question, make sure to tell me in a ****PM)****:**

Cloudy-TheNightMareQueen: 12 points

Dark Rook: 7 points

Prim4ever: 7 points

3rdbase101: 5 points

Peace674: 7 points

KatnissIsTheLove: 10 points

LittleAsian: 7 points

KatnissThaliaMaxZoey: 5 points

Freedom of Thought: 5 points

AliceCullen'sBarbie: 2 points

Akai-Pyon: 7 points

Exxoh: 5 points


	4. The Day It All Begins Part 2

**A/N: **Well, this is the second half of the Reapings. Again, we will be viewing it from the view of a Capitol girl.

Enjoy~

* * *

**2. The Day It All Begins Part 2**

"Vesta, Vasta, hurry up! You'll miss the second half!"

Vysta's voice rings from the TV room and I sigh, getting up from the table as one of our Avoxes hurries and cleans off the dirty plates.

Vesta gives me a glance and I raise my eyebrows, before we walk back into the living room. Vysta sits on the sofa, lounging, really, taking up more than three-quarters of the entire piece of furniture. Vesta doesn't bother with trying to move her, so my older sister just sits down in another chair.

I sit down on the floor, drawing my knees into my chest and hugging them there. The television turns on almost automatically, as the anthem plays again.

Qwerty and Orpheus are back, as they give a quick recap of all the tributes, followed by a list of their names and their ages.

"That brings us to District Seven," Orpheus' voice comes from the blackness as the words **District Seven **followed by **Lumber **flash onto the screen. The camera takes us to a silent square, as the mayor repeats the Treaty.

The representative steps up to the podium, and even I have to blink at the sudden flash of color. Her sweater is changing colors, and it's mesmerizing. Pink, gold, blue, neon yellow…

A soft whimper from Vysta reinforces my judgment that that sweater is the next must have. But now, I refocus on the Reapings.

"Reaping Day!" the woman exclaims cheerily, as her sweater continues to flash. She skips over to the Reaping Bowl. "We'll begin with the girls!" she says as her hand disappears into the plethora of names, searching for one.

She tugs it out, several slips falling as she does so before she opens it.

"Acacia March!"

Slowly, steadily, ever step carefully planned, a girl makes her way out of the sixteen's pen and onto the stage. Her eyes are cold, empty and almost lifeless as she stares back at the crowd, but it's not that that captures my interest. It's the pale green that does.

She's small.

But, as I have already seen, size does not seem to be a very good indication of who is willing to kill.

She stands solidly, not moving, her eyes staring out at nothing, as the male tribute is chosen.

"Evander Evans!"

Vysta laughs out loud at his name, as a tall, dark haired boy steps out of the eighteen's pen. His eyes aren't focused on the stage. They're seeking someone out in the girl's eighteen's pen. And the camera settles on a girl with a pale face, tears streaming unchecked down her face.

"He has such a strange name," Vysta giggles, kicking her feet and bouncing them off the couch, her eyes not looking at the screen. Vesta rolls her eyes and I find myself smiling slightly as well, as the television fades to black.

I leave to go get some food and when I come back, the District 8 Reapings are just finishing up.

Their names are being repeated by the representative, for some odd reason. The girl is of average height, wearing a pretty sleeveless white dress. "Harlem Yates everybody," the representative smiles as the girl shakes hands with the boy, "And Jonathon Taylor. Give it up for these two!"

Thin applause dribbles through the crowd, but nobody seems too disturbed by this.

**District Nine **and **Food Processing/Hunting **appear out of the blackness that follows the fade-out of District Eight.

"Welcome to District 9," the mayor is staring straight into the camera, before he launches into the Treaty. I'm getting tired of hearing the Treaty myself, but I force myself to stay. He finishes speaking and sits down, flanked by the two most recent victors from District 9.

The representative steps up, gives a few words of encouragement and then gets right down to business. His hand is hesitating at the edge of the rim of the girl's Reaping Bowl, before his fingers disappear into the papery depths.

His hand reappears, a single slip gripped between his thumb and his index finger. The wind ruffles the edges as he tugs it open.

"Kyden Hunter," he says clearly.

A girl makes her way out of the seventeen's pen, her face stony cold as she does. Her eyes burn with a mixture of fear and apprehension, as the representative asks for volunteers. Nobody moves, nobody speaks, and Kyden's face hardens.

Her hands clench into fists as she ducks her head, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and obscuring her hazel eyes.

The representative is at the boy's Reaping Bowl now. His fingers pick one slip right off the top.

"Sebastian Kingston."

Kyden's shoulders stiffens, as a dark haired boy, lean, strong, with…one green eye and one blue eye, walks onto the stage. He looks disgruntled, as he moves past his friends in the eighteen's pen and makes his way to stand next to Kyden. He's relaxed with a light smirk on his face – as if he didn't care that he was going to die.

"His eyes are really pretty…" Vesta speaks softly, as we remain glued to the screen.

Kyden and Sebastian shake hands, with Kyden releasing Sebastian's fingers almost immediately.

District Nine fades out, bringing us to **District Ten **home of **Livestock**.

The crowd in District Ten is as silent as the one in District Nine. But there's something haunted about the way the District Ten children are acting, as they filter into their pens and stare up at the stage.

Their mayor, a thin woman, says the Treaty in a sharp voice, before she steps back and lets the representative, a bulbous man dressed in a dark orange suit, take her place. He speaks some words of welcome, before sauntering over to the Reaping Bowls.

I stare at the white slips and wonder, briefly, how it would feel to have my name be among those.

Then I shrug off the feeling, as he pulls out the slip for the female tribute.

"Erin Owafk!"

A small girl steps out of the fifteen's section, and the first thing I notice is her auburn ringlets. I know Vysta is literally green with envy, and I find myself smiling. The girl – Erin – makes her way up onto the stage, looking around with a deep blush on her cheek.

Nobody volunteers for her, and Erin's eyes seem to be boring holes in the wood underneath her feet as the male tribute is chosen.

"Graham Davis!"

He's taller than Erin by at least a head and a half, but he has a lanky look about him, as he steps uncertainly out of the fourteen's pen. His hair is short and brown, and falls into his eyes, as his lips stiffen and his hands shakily ball themselves into fists as he steps up onto the stage.

He and Erin shake hands briefly, both of them seeming to shake with unbridled fear.

District Ten fades out and we're left with Qwerty and Orpheus, as they interject and begin to exclaim and make notes on the tributes that have already been Reaped.

"District Eleven is currently having a little technical issue. But we should be back with them soon," Orpheus says swiftly, before he begins talking to Qwerty. "Look at all of these capable tributes!"

Qwerty nods agreement.

"Mm-hmm," she says, her hair flying as she does so. "I mean, they're all so fearless and so beautiful! Ah…it's such a difficult choice who to sponsor…"

Orpheus seems to be staring at something past the camera, before he nods. "Oh, look, we have District Eleven back."

He smiles, and the screen fades to black.

**District Eleven **followed by **Agriculture **fades in, before we're taken to District Eleven.

The crowd here is huge.

District Eleven has always been one of the larger districts, perhaps even _the _largest.

The mayor has just finished repeating the Treaty and the representative is moving towards the Reaping Bowls. His hand plunges into the multitude of white paper slips, pulling one out.

Everybody holds their breath before the representative says the name.

"Alloura Etchevery."

Nobody moves, until a girl, very, very short, steps out of the twelve's pen. The entire district seems to go silent as her light graceful steps take her to the wooden planks. She stares back out at the crowd, blinking back tears, a small, sad smile on her lips.

"Are there any volunteers?"

I'm half expecting the entire district to surge forward with offers, but nobody moves. And Alloura's small smile falters.

The representative has moved onto the male bowl. He picks one slip off the exact middle of the bowl.

He looks around at the district, before opening his mouth and reading, "Kyrdain North."

It's not a twelve year old this time.

Rather, this boy seems to be the exact opposite of Alloura.

He's unnaturally tall, and he moves with an awkward gait, as though he's unused to the length of his limbs and his torso. His dark brown hair falls into his blue eyes as he stands next to Alloura. The contrast between them is almost startling, as his gangly height and her petite frame are accentuated just by them standing next to each other.

The district is silent, and the camera fades out.

**District Twelve **and the words **Coal **finally appear and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I sag against the couch, feeling something like relief fill my body. Two more people.

Again, it's strange how quiet this district is.

It's a small district, and nobody looks particularly happy about Reaping Day. They are dressed in their finest clothes, and that happens to be the only splash of color in their drab world.

I feel sorry for them, unable to have the amount of color we have here in the Capitol.

The representative that steps up to the stage is wearing a bright pink dress and a dark red feathery scarf, her long blood-red hair swept up in an elegant bun. She has a diamond swan comb in her hair and she smiles broadly as she is introduced.

Her decorated fingernails hover over the thicket of names in the girl's Reaping Bowl, before plucking one from the edge.

"Fay Harvey."

A slender brunette steps out of the fourteen's pen, her face growing increasingly pale as she makes her way to the stage. But the time she gets there, she's shaking and it looks as though she could fall over at any moment.

"Volunteers?"

The representative's voice is almost hopeful, as though she's hoping that somebody other than this skinny girl will be her charge. She obviously wants a victor, and I remember a little factoid – District Twelve hasn't had any victors in the past forty or so Hunger Games.

But nobody does move to take Fay's place. The rep sighs softly, her face dropping a little before she puts on another blinding smile and makes her way to the boy's bowl.

Her fingers dive straight into the names this time, no nitpicking. She tugs out two names and drops one back into the bowl before unfolding the one she has decided to keep.

She lets the silence thicken for a few moments before speaking.

"Daryl Rivers."

Daryl steps out of the sixteen's pen, a tall, strong looking boy with blond curly hair and gorgeous bright blue eyes. He moves to stand next to Fay, and there really could not be any people more different than these two – except maybe the tributes from Eleven. There seems to be quite a few dry sobs coming from the girl's section as Daryl stands on the stage, looking a little unsure.

"Volunteers?"

This time, her voice is not hopeful at all, almost filled with dread, but when nobody steps forward, she looks relieved.

The screen fades to black and Qwerty and Orpheus are back.

"Will you look at that?" Qwerty exclaims. "We have our twenty-four tributes. But personally, I think there are a few we should keep a special eye on. Fyrian Manas, the twelve year old volunteer from District One…"

"Both the District Two tributes, Diana Rockefeller and Jaylon Asa – they look like they could do a lot of damage," Orpheus continues, leaning in with excitement.

"The District Four tributes as well," Qwerty continues stubbornly. "Skylar Ridged and Keiran Walsh are definitely tributes you won't want to underestimate."

"Frankie Heathome, for her quiet confidence," Orpheus refuses to be outdone.

"Evangeline Flynn, the girl who laughed when her name was chosen," Qwerty flinches slightly, as she remembers the incident.

"The silent killer from District Seven – Acacia Marsh…" They're not listing favorites anymore. They're listing the tributes with the best chances of survival.

"The two-toned gaze of the boy from District Nine," Qwerty shudders, but not with fear. It's with something else and I can't place my finger on it.

"The girl from District Ten looks like she might survive…" But Orpheus' voice is puzzled, without any force behind it.

"The Elevens look like they would make a good time," Qwerty puts the show back on a happier note.

"And finally, I think the boy from District Twelve has fans he needs to get back to," Orpheus takes her lead, smiling at the end.

"Well. These are this year's Hunger Games tributes. Remember to tune in for the chariots and the interviews!" Qwerty and Orpheus wave at the screen, before the television flashes off.

The One Hundred and Twenty-Seventh Hunger Games have begun.

* * *

**A/N: **So, reviews are love. I'll post point updates at the end of every other chapter. Just a note: To those who have submitted tributes, I'm sorry, but you can't send any gifts to your own tribute. You can send them to anybody else, just not your own or any of mine. Any questions, feel free to PM me.

Oh, and I would love for you all to submit a stylist/prep team for one of the focus Districts. And chariot outfits.

Here, just fill out this form. There's five points on the line for the designs that I accept.

Name of the stylist:

Personality:

Appearance:

Prep team names (3 please):

Personalities:

Appearances:

Chariot design:

Chariot outfit design (make sure to do both the girl and the boy's design):

Interview outfit (both boy and girl):

May the odds be every in your favor!

(Reviews with substance are worth 2 points!)


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